285 Reasons To Hate You
by MoralEventHorizon
Summary: Klingon war loot from the time of Kahless turns up during a mining operation and falls into the wrong hands. A cultural voyage from Ferenginar to Breen, to Nausicaan asteroids and the Orion Syndicate. OCs are legion, canon is holy, hail Ferenginar.
1. Chapter 1

**Rule 177: Know your enemies - and do business with them always.**

„And you are certain? These artifacts are authentic?"

If his face hadn't been hidden under the refrigeration helm, Ghan had probably looked somewhat skeptical when he paced through the storage hall. He scanned some crates here and there, reviewed the readouts of his data padd and continued his way through the hall, just to stop again a few meters further and scan another crate.

„Very certain. At least about the items already here." Thren's approximation of a glance followed Ghan through the dimmed hall. „What is that supposed to mean? 'The items already here'?" Ghan stopped once more and turned around to Thren. „Another freighter is on the way", he explained. „And the survey hasn't been completed yet. It is possible that we find another chamber under the caves. Scanners indicate another room. Could be a natural rock formation." Ghan nodded; possible he now seemed thoughtful under his helm. „Alright, let's assume these artifacts are authentic..." He walked back, towards Thren. „Then this is the most profitable mining operation of all times." He reached the door where Thren waited for him with the inventory list. „That's out of the question", he agreed. „Even if only half of it really dates back to the foundation of the Klingon Empire, it will pay out."

Ghan grabbed the padd with the list and scrolled through the data. „I want Tohl to take a closer look at 'the items already here'", he told Thren. „I want to be absolutely certain. After all, there is some risk involved in these findings." He looked back up to Thren and returned the padd to him. „How do we turn Klingon spoils of war into latinum without starting a war with half the quadrant?"

Thren put the padd in the pocket inside his refrigeration suit. „I assume if we sell the wrong artifacts to the wrong customers, we could expect some trouble, yes", he agreed thoughtfully. „The blood of Kahless or whatever it is might be worth some trouble for the Klingons." „Not only that." Ghan opened the frost-covered door of the storage facility. „We've seen how much trouble the Bajorans are willing to go though during this so-called occupation." He stepped through the door, to the snow covered yard outside the building. „Call me once you hear back from Tohl."

**Deep Space Nine, Promenade, Quark's**

„Brunt, FCA."

With shameless annoyance in his eyes, Quark looked over to the entrance. His hope to suffer from hallucinations was disappointed. The liquidator of the Ferengi finance authority was real and it wouldn't work to wash him away with some Andorian ale. Quark tried it anyway. When he put the empty glass back on the counter, the uninvited guest was kind enough to step in and not stand in the way of paying customers any longer.

„What do you want here again?" Quark sighed. „I thought we already had the story about the 'newly required routine check' only two months ago." Brunt came closer to the bar and leaned over the counter, to Quark. „A visit much too short, if you ask me", he grinned. „Much too short to really get an insight into your activities." He took the bottle Quark had held in his hand and added: „Even for such insignificant activities." „They aren't that 'insignificant'!" Quark hissed. „Oh?" Brunt grinned again and pointed to the glasses behind Quark. „And you can't sue me for any of them", he replied, ignoring Brunt's gesture.

„I didn't plan to. As usual, you claim way too much importance." Brunt's glance almost cut holes into the glasses now. „Perfect! Then you can simply leave me peace, take care of your own business - and stay away from my bar and me." Quark still ignored the unspoken demand to put a glass on the counter. „It won't be that easy, I'm afraid." „Oh? How hard can it be? The station is big." Quark now reached for a glass, then produced a bottle from under the counter. „Not really that big." Brunt watched every move Quark made; anger glittering in his eyes as soon as he saw the glass being filled and then handed to Morn, who was sitting on a bar stool some steps away. „Not even the entire quadrant is big enough for the two of us", Quark told him. „But if you are not here to make me miserable for once, we could at least try to ignore each other and keep as much distance as possible."

Brunt's expression switched from angry to plain arrogant. „The quadrant is also not big enough for the nagus", he stated. „And that is why I came here, to the door of new business opportunities." Quark laughed, then took another glass from the board behind him and slammed it on the counter in front of Brunt. „The nagus sent you here to improve trade with the gamma quadrant? And you really believe that?" „What's so unbelievable about that?" Brunt gave him an hostile glance, then poured a drink into the glass. „The nagus wants to improve relationships with the gamma quadrant for quite a while now, and you failed him completely, save some minor contracts." „Oh, I totally believe that the nagus wants more profit from the other side of the wormhole", Quark grinned. „And I also believe that he sent you here. But not because of the contracts." He took the bottle from Brunt, who watched him slightly irritated. „The nagus sent you here just to not have you around him anymore." Brunt almost spit out his drink.

„Petty as usual", he hissed after a moment. „Maybe he sent me to show you what a capable man can achieve in the gamma quadrant." „Then why would he have sent you?" Quark turned away and began to mix a cocktail. „We'll see!" Brunt could hide his anger even less than Quark could hide his amusement about the anger. „Oh, I'm sure we will", he agreed. „Fortunately, you are already used to the failure of big plans." He reached for another bottle and continued the preperation of the cocktail. „I tell you something. If you make only ten bars of latinum out here, far from your cosy little office, you get a free drink from me."

**Plun V-II, Breen Storage Facility  
Supervisor's Office**

„It would have been much easier if you had delivered dilithium as usual", inventory supervisor Tohl said when Ghan entered the office. „It was not easy to identify these artifacts without arising suspicion." „Then I can assume they are indeed authentic? And of some value?" Ghan walked over to the console Tohl was operating. „Some value? Well, that is one way to put it", he replied. „With the profits we can pay a battle fleet that makes the Klingon Empire shiver in fear." „If we find buyers." Ghan came closer to take a look at the display of the console. „Thot Bona wants me to take care of the sales, and honestly I have no idea what to do with all these artifacts. I supervise mining operations, not a museum." Tohl nodded and operated his console. „I'm no expert myself", he began, but Ghan interrupted. „I know that. But give me some advice nonetheless." Irritated, Tohl looked up from his work. „And I supervise a storage facility, no archaeology expedition. Don't expect any miracles from me." He deactivated the console and left his position. On the way to the door, he grabbed an identifcation card. „After you", he said, waiting at the door.

**Storage Unit K17-1XR**

The storage unit below the office was barely illuminated by some lonely ceiling lamps, and badly isolated, too. Dilithium was a grateful material for storage workers. Unlike ancient artifacts, it did not require any special treatment to protect it from the enviroment. Dilithium was happy with the large cubic metal crates that filled the hall. Now, on many of these crates sat purple, barely visible force fields in different heights and sizes, protecting the artifacts from the arctic temperatures on Plun V-II.

„I listed the inventory by origin", Tohl explained when he walked into the hall. „I couldn't figure out the exact age or market value." Ghan nodded. „When it comes to customers, I should consider who they are more than what they pay myself. I can't be too picky who I do business with, at least not before I don't have a battle fleet that makes the Klingon Empire shiver in fear."

Tohl entered the first corridor and stopped at a crate with a small force field, occupied by two metallic, moon-shaped items. Ghan followed him. „I can't tell you terribly much about these... things", Tohl said. „I know they are Andorian. My contacts to Federation worlds are limited and they are all no real experts either. Someone said these markings mean these items are some sort of ritual blades." „Hm." Ghan moved on to the neighboring force field on the next crate.

„Bajoran." Tohl scrolled on his padd, found the inventory designation and looked back up to Ghan. „I looked inside, but there isn't much to see. There are some letters on the outside, but I don't know what they say." „Hm", Ghan replied again. „Any idea what it is good for?" Tohl shrugged. „My contact on Cardassia called it an orb, and said it is quite valuable. But he didn't know what it does." „Great. How am I supposed to sell something if I don't even know what it is good for?" Ghan watched the object suspiciously; Tohl shrugged yet again. „My best guess? It is a lamp. If you open the front, light comes out, so..." „That is all?" Ghan stopped his visual inspection and turned back to Tohl. He nodded. „Not my fault. I didn't create it, I didn't dig it out." He walked over to the next crate and its force field. „And most of all, I don't have to sell it", he added.

Ghan followed him and bend down to the tiny item occupying this crate. „That is a Bajoran earring", Tohl informed him. „It is used to hang on an ear." „There you have it." Ghan lifted his head. „That is an artifact I like. Easy to identify, easy to sell."


	2. Chapter 2

**Rule 74: Knowledge equals profit.**

„And I really thought you finally got it!"

Quark sighed and put the tray on a table near the door. „How unwelcoming for a barkeeper", Brunt remarked and pulled a chair from the table to sit down. „How inconsequent for a liquidator", Quark replied. „You only managed to stay away from my bar for four days." „The replicator in my quarters is... flawed", Brunt explained. „It only provides three nearly eatable meals." „I know." Quark grinned and picked up the tray. „My own brother deleted the other Ferengi recipes. Did you really think I would let some Federation device steal my customers?"  
Brunt slowly looked around in the almost empty bar. „I assume you are talking about the extremely wealthy waiters, yes? Or did the rest of the quadrant suddenly open up to the culinary value of a snail steak, after rejecting our exquisite cuisine for so long?" „I'm talking about the extremely wealthy liquidators who, far from home, surrender to the limited selection of their replicators", Quark smiled. „Do you want a snail steak? For only ten strips of latinum you get the best on the entire station." Brunt stared at him, eyes and mouth wide open in utter disbelief. „Ten... strips... of latinum? For one steak? Have you lost your mind?" he gasped. „Probably", Quark smiled back. „But to compensate for this tragic loss, I got a monopoly on snail steaks. So, do you want one or not?"

**Plun V-II, Breen Storage Facility  
Supervisor's Office**

Ghan stood by the window, his back turned to the door, and gazed outside, to the snowy yard of the building, when Thren entered the room. It took a moment until Ghan turned around and pointed to the long metallic table. Thren nodded and took a seat, yet Ghan remained standing near the window. „The good news first", he said. „The artifacts are indeed authentic. Though Tohl can't identify all of them, he is certain they are of quite notable value." „So the bad news is that it won't be easy to find trustworthy customers that will tread the goods with the neccessary discretion", Thren assumed.

Ghan nodded briefly and activated the display on the wall. The inventory list had grown slightly since the last survey. The miners had found another chamber in the former dilithium mine, current digging site. Though it had been smaller as they had expected, they had found a few more artifacts in it. „45 items", Ghan said, more hestitation than excitement in his voice, and nodded to the wall. „And there is really a bit of everything. The Klingons were busy back then."

Thren got up and stepped some closer to the monitor. „What about the Cardassians?" he asked. „Don't they want the Bajoran items? They seem to like this kind of pathos." Ghan shook his helm. „Not worth it for them", he explained. „If anyone finds out they possess Bajoran artifacts, they will have to return them to Bajor as a 'sign of good will'. The Detapa Council recently signed a retribution contract to return the loot from the occupation. It is already loss enough for Cardassia. They won't buy anything they'll have to give away." „I understand", Thren said, thoughtfully. „Then, maybe we can sell directly to Bajor." Again, Ghan shook his head. „Theoretically, we can only sell to Bajor because no-one else wants their garbage, or because the Bajorans would only demand the return without financial compensation. No-one with a sane mind would buy Bajoran artifacts these days, just to give them away in the spirit of reparation or however they call it. I read up on the situation earlier today. I shouldn't have done that. Really, all that babble about the 'spiritual healing of Bajor' can ruin your day." He crossed the arms and looked back to the window. „And that is our problem. Only Bajor really wants these artifacts, and they want them for free."

Thren returned to the table, seated himself, and studied the inventory list from the distance. „I assume no-one would be really eager to pay", he said after a while. „Vulcan bowls, Bajoran lamp in a box, Andorian ritual-of-whatever blades... That is..." „...something for wealthy collectors", Ghan finished his sentence. „I am certain none of the worlds would want to pay for the return of what was stolen from them. They would all insist on the right of getting it back for 'ethical reasons'. No, we have to address a different kind of customer." Thren's voice carried doubt when he pointed out the obvious. „We do not have that kind of customer. Our kind of customer buys dilithium and cares as little about antique artifacts as we do."

Ghan turned off the screen and took a seat by the window, on the opposite side of the table. „Exactly. And that is why we need a mediator. Someone with contacts. Or someone who can get in touch with art collectors, so we don't have to bother with these intellectual snobs." „That sounds like a good plan", Thren nodded. „Especially since most snobbish art collectors aren't too keen to deal with people like us either." „I asked Tohl to find us a mediator", Ghan continued to explain his idea. „He knows many pirates who store their loot here. And he is certain there will be someone who deals with the type of goods we have, and can find the customers we need."

„I never understood why pirates have such a bad reputation in the quadrant." Thren leaned back and probably watched the ceiling. „I personally never had any bad experiences with them. Plus, they leave their storage units in excellent condition. Always." „And their prices are much fairer than the average legal sources", Ghan added. „I am really glad about the plans of our governemt to lift the legalization of piracy to the next level." Thren nodded in agreement. „It can only be an advantage for both sides involved to offer registered buccaneers Confederacy citizenship." „These are the moments to be really proud of our government." Ghan turned his head back to the window, now he probably seemed wistful under the helm. „It doesn't surprise me most pirates want nothing to do with their backwardly 'homeworlds'."

„It is indeed a promising step into the right direction, seeing how much we already profit from the inofficial alliance with the pirate clans." Tohl had appeared in the open door, a padd in his hand. Ghan turned back to the table. „I take it you found a mediator for our purpose then?" Tohl nodded and stepped in. „You are lucky", he said. „Just this morning, a ship arrived with a delivery that hinted the customer type you desire." He seated himself next to Thren. „This sounds promising", Thren said. „And our offer was acceptable?" Tohl waved his head from left to right, not really shaking it, not really nodding either. „Generally speaking, yes. 23 percent is a very good offer for a dealer in stolen goods. But they want to see the goods first." Ghan nodded. „Naturally. Our limited knowledge about the artifacts was probably not too helpful for someone with more experience." Thren nodded, too. „I agree. Offer them 25 percent. If that means a disruptor array less for us, I can live with it. It is still better than not selling anything because we lack of a mediator."

„Would that be 23 percent for the pirates and 2 percent for me, or 20 percent for the pirates and 5 percent for me then?" Tohl asked, his glance wandered from Thren back to Ghan. „You sound like a Ferengi", Ghan told him. „I don't care how you share." Tohl nodded and got up. „Ferengi. A good keyword, by the way..." he said, but before the two other Breen could inquire, he had already left the room. „I will provide you with the information about the meeting later", they heard him say from the stairs. „The pirates are still unloading."

**Deep Space Nine, Promenade, Quark's**

„Brother?"

Quark rolled his eyes. It was the first time on a busy day that he had a little time for himself, and the last thing he needed was his idiot brother ordering root beer. „What now?" he asked, shameless disinterest in his voice.

Rom hurried to reach the bar and place himself on a stool. „I, er... just wanted to ask something", he began. „Then ask!" Quark grabbed a glass from the board behind the bar. His face turned into a disgusted grimace as he placed it on the counter, along with a bottle of root beer. He did so just to not hear Rom order this unspeakable human insult of a liquid. Rom seemed delighted by the gesture nonetheless. „So... Why did I... first delete all Ferengi recipes from Brunt's replicator... and now programmed them back in?"

Quark sighed, poured himself a snail juice and watched Rom with a pitiful smile. „You don't have to understand that", he said. „But, er, I... I want to!" Rom drank a sip from his glass, waiting for his brother to explain. Quark sighed again. „It was a cheap victory", he finally explained. „I just wanted to see how long it took for him to come begging for some tube grubs." Rom seemed to have a revelation. „You wanted to show him who, er, the boss is!" Surprised, Quark looked up from his snail juice. „Hey, I don't believe it! You really got it!"

Rom now seemed relieved. He drank another sip, then he said: „And I just thought you wanted to prove to me that I'm a bad engineer again." „Rom!" Quark watched him reproachfully. „Anyone can program a replicator, even you. Don't you think I'd come up with something better if I wanted to prove to you the obvious?" Rom's face showed more confusion than usual. „So... this, er, this was not about the security systems?" The confusion was contagious. „What security systems?" Quark asked, watching his brother suspiciously. „On the door!" Rom pushed the empty root beer bottle back over the counter. „You idiot!" Quark moaned. „Don't tell me you messed with Odo's replicator!" „Uh... No, I didn't. Why? Should I?" Confusion made room for worry on Rom's face. „No, damnit! But Odo is the only person paranoid enough to install extra security systems on his door!" Rom shook his head. „Garak has some." „But unlike Odo, Garak has a reason!" Quark replied. „_And_ he is paranoid", he added thoughtfully.

For a while, both Ferengi were quiet. Then Quark suspiciously narrowed his eyes and watched Rom, as if he had met him for the first time and wondered if he should do business with him. „How do you know what security systems Garak has on his quarters?" he asked. Rom turned the glass in his hands and quietly began to answer. „Er, I... er..." He stopped, looked up and grinned proudly. „I just know!" he finished the sentence. „But... What do Garak and Odo have to do with, er, Brunt's replicator?" Quark mentally slapped his forehead. Verbally, he expressed the disbelief regarding his brother's stupidity with resignation. „Nothing. Really, nothing at all." He got a new bottle of root beer from the box under the counter and placed it in front of Rom. „But about these security systems on Brunt's door..." He moved the bottle closer to Rom. „Tell me more. This one's on the house."


	3. Chapter 3

**Rule 48: The bigger the smile, the sharper the knife.**

„Tohl gave us the portfolio of our mediator." Ghan looked up from his padd when Thren entered the room. „Deals with independant worlds a lot, no Federation business. Plans to apply for citizenship on Breen after the legal reformations." Thren took a seat and glanced over at the padd; Ghan handed it to him. „Very informative survey", he said, reading through the data. „Frequently deals with the Syndicate. Someone who can deal with them can deal with everyone." Ghan nodded. „And someone who deals with them 'frequently' can also survive everything." „Oh please." Thren slightly shook his helm. „Orion hasn't fought a real war in centuries. They're overrated if you ask me." „Agreed", Ghan said. „But they still eliminate suppliers on a regular basis. So it is still a good business reference to deal with them and be alive." „True."

Thren continued to scroll through the data. „Ferengi Alliance", he read out loud. „That is also a good reference." Ghan nodded. „If they were not so annoying, I'd deal with them myself. But that shouldn't concern us", Thren added. „According to Tohl, our mediator gets along with the Ferengi. It is likely our artifacts will end up with them", Ghan said. „And I like that. The Ferengi usually don't start any trouble. No rushed declarations of war, no questions, but a lot of latinum." „And that is what matters. I only accept these pesky invitations to participate in the Federation's silly shuttle races to get bribed by the Ferengi pilot", Thren nodded. „Understandable", Ghan replied. „What else would be appealing about a competition without prize money? Those peace mongers can hardly provide a real challenge." „Exactly. You can imagine my anger when the Ferengi was banned from the race last year because of attempted bribery."  
Thren got up and began pacing along the windows; obviously said anger was still present. „Did you at least get the latinum before he had to leave?" Ghan asked. „No! He was caught long before our meeting, when he tried to get the Romulan pilot into the deal." Thren stopped and leaned against the wall next to the window. „It was very frustrating! I really don't know if I will take the next invitation. If I get one." „Hm", Ghan began. „Why wouldn't they invite you? It's not like they have that many Breen to choose from. And you were not involved in the bribery, officially." „Let's say the relations with Romulus suffered slightly from this incident", Thren explained. „I took the liberty of sabotaging the plasma converter of that idiot Romulan. His shuttle exploded when he passed the finish line." Ghan nodded, understandingly, Thren continued: „When that came out, the Ferengi sent me a Tholian driller, to thank me for my loyalty. I sent him Flaxian Urena fruit in return." „Aren't those poisonous for species with a blood circulation?" Ghan asked. Thren nodded. „Deadly within seconds." „And the Federation says Breen have no sense of humor." Amused, Ghan shook his head.

**Deep Space Nine, Promenade, Quark's**

„Rom?" Quark looked around, trying to spot his brother in the holosuite. There was no program running, but Rom's maintenance check had produced a chaos that even the most sophisticated programmer hadn't been able to create. „Rom, where are you?" Quark stepped over a toolbox and finally found his brother between an open panel, several cables and more tools. „When will you be done with this nonsense?" Quark demanded. Rom looked up from his work. „It takes as long as it takes!" he quoted his superior officer, with little resemblance. „This suite has been out of order for hours now!" his brother sighed. „If you would let me check it more often... It wouldn't... er, take so long", Rom explained and searched for a phase modulator in his chaos. „There was nothing broken! Everything worked fine, why would I want you to check it?" Quark pushed the toolbox closer to Rom with his foot, and Rom found what he was looking for. „I didn't make the regulations", he replied and continued his work inside the wall panel.

Quark crossed his arms and leaned against a wall. „Of course you had to come up with that excuse. You would rather let others do the thinking and just follow orders you don't even understand", he muttered. „Did you at least find out why Brunt has these security systems on his door?" Rom shrugged. „Why would I know that?" He put the phase modulator down and grabbed an EPS coupler from his toolbox. „Why don't you ask, er, Brunt? He will know!" „You idiot!" Quark moaned. „Then he would know that I know that he has them!" „And, er, that is... a secret?" Rom asked confused. „People that install extra security systems on their quarters always have secrets", his brother explained. „Otherwise they wouldn't need extra security systems, would they?" „Maybe..." Rom slowly began and turned back to a console. „Maybe he has... secret orders from the Grand Nagus?" „Yes! That has to be the reason!" Quark's anger made room for a smile.  
„Of course! And he knows if I find out about his plans, I'll do anything I can to cross them!" Rom stopped and looked up. „You will?" Quark grinned at him. „Of course I will." „But, er, how do you want to find out what his plans are? He has extra security systems on his door!" Rom pointed out. Quark stared at him in disbelief. „You already cracked them!" „But I don't know what his plans are!" Rom shrugged, Quark rolled his eyes. „You're really beyond hope", he sighed. „After your shift, I'll go distract Brunt, and you go search his quarters."

**Plun V-II, Breen Storage Facility**

Ghan and Thren stood next to the door, waiting patiently for their mediator to return from the inspection of their goods. Tohl had introduced the pirate kaghan to them earlier in his office and all parties were confident that this business was going to pay out. „We were really lucky", Thren said. „She seems to have an eye for these things." Ghan nodded. „That, and good business references." He thought for a moment, then added: „And she gets along with Ferengi. Still our best option."

„For 20 percent of this profit, you can have all the options you want."

The pirate returned from a hallway of storage boxes to the door. „Really, all of the options", she added with a grin when she had reached Ghan and Thren. „Then we have a deal?" Ghan asked rethorically. The pirate nodded. „Absolutely. The Ferengi will make this into a damn lot of latinum." „Very good." Thren activated a panel next to the door to open it. „You'll get underway tomorrow then?" The pirate nodded again and stepped out to the snow covered yard. „I'll take my Nausicaan raider. No-one will suspect who really found the artifacts." She shuddered and pulled her leather coat tighter together. „As much as I look foreward to my citizenship, I will really have to get used to your weather."

Ghan follwed her, Thren closed and locked the door of the storage building. „Understandable, considering your heritage", Ghan said when they walked across the yard. „The few Cardassians we see here always complain about the cold. And Klingons aren't too fond of snow either, as far as I know." „Neither are Nausicaans", she added. „But then, I should be glad my father wasn't Andorian. I'd rather have some scales than antennae." Thren unlocked the door of the office building, then stuffed the ID card and inventory padd into his uniform jacket. „I must admit I'm surprised you get along better with Ferengi than Orions", he said when they stepped inside the corridor. „Ferengi are arrogant cowards and tend to make a lot enemies", the pirate explained. „Combined with a damn lot of latinum, that results in a damn lot of demand for protection." She grinned, exposing the side tusks hinting her Nausicaan ancestors. „Before the Confederacy made piracy so much easier, there were always times when we had to keep a low profile. Make compromises to get through. In such times, many of my kind worked for the Ferengi, as bodyguards or to collect on debts; whatever was in demand. It's an easy job and it pays very well." Thren nodded, understandingly. „I see. Ferengi hire people they think their peers will be afraid of. And in return, they are afraid of them themselves." The pirate nodded. „And that makes it a lot easier to collect my own money. You really get used to Ferengi over time, if you know how to handle them."


	4. Chapter 4

**Rule 48: Never let the competition know what you're thinking**

And? Did you find something?"

Quark paced nervously behind the counter of the closed bar. „I let Brunt try new recipes for hours, to hear what a 'real Ferengi' thinks about them. And trust me, if that was a waste of time, I'm really really angry!" Rom waved his head, looking up from his root beer. „I, er, I... haven't found anything", he mumbled. Quark stopped and starred at his brother suspiciously. „What did you say?" „No secret orders from the Nagus", Rom quietly admitted. „No contacts to the gamma quadrant... Nothing at aaaaall!" „And you're sure you looked everywhere?" Quark hissed in frustration. Rom nodded heavily. „Everywhere! But there was nothing at aaaall... Except..." He looked back down at his glass. „Except what?" Quark's expression shifted slightly away from frustration and anger. „A list with shuttle types", Rom replied. Immediately, his brother rolled his eyes. „Oh yes, that will be the big mystery! What a revelation! Someone planning to go the gamma quadrant needs a shuttle! And I thought he'd fly through the wormhole on the wings of his fantasy!" Rom hastily drank another sip from his root beer. „I told you I didn't find anything interesting!" he defended himself.  
Quark sighed and leaned on the counter. „Great. Now we need a new plan." „You need a new plan, brother!" Rom corrected. „I have to finish the maintenance on pylon three tomorrow." „Na, you don't." Quark made a bored gesture, as if to wave the silly idea away. „There's nothing wrong with pylon three, it can wait." Rom gave it some thought, then he shook his head. „No, it can not wait!" he declared. „Chief O'Brien wants to get done with it tomorrow!" Quark sighed annoyed and turned away. „Wonderful. Now my own brother lets me down." „But, er, you always let me down..." Rom realized. Quark glanced over to him. „That's different."

**Nausicaan Raider Maoth'ai**

**Bridge**

„Kaghan Tel'Koa! We're arriving in Ber... Bash... Bajoran space!"

The man on the navigation console was all but sober, but he seemed quite confident about the correctness of his statement. The door of the ready room opened; a woman entered the bridge and handed him an almost empty bottle of Kanar before she seated herself in the captain's chair. „Very good!" She quickly checked a display, then nodded to her pilot. „There's a small system near the border. Get us in orbit of that gas giant. The radiation should mask our energy signature enough." The pilot nodded and entered the coordinates. „Is the shuttle ready?" he asked. His kaghan nodded. „The shuttle is, but I doubt we are. Or is anyone sober?"  
She laughed when no-one gave a positive reply. „Plus, we've still got plenty to do before we go." She turned around and nodded to a Cardassian with suspiciously pointy ears. „Ariev, check the data base of the authorities. Just in case someone is wanted by the Bajorans. Doesn't make a good impression to be arrested in front of potential business partners." The man turned back to his console and pulled up some data on his screen. „Maahir?" The pilot nodded. „We'll arrive in the gas giant's system in about 37 minutes." He watched the Kanar bottle in his hand, shrugged and poured the rest of the drink down. „More than enough time to get sober."

**Deep Space Nine, Habitat Ring, Brunt's Quarters**

Brunt sat on his bed, surrounded by small stacks of latinum strips and a few bars. In his hand, he had the padd with his financial portfolio. He watched it carefully and sighed. It wouldn't be easy to live without it for a while. But the 125th rule of acquisition said it clearly: If you're dead, you don't do business. And despite all current problems, Brunt would rather he stayed alive and did business.

The sound of steps coming closer, echoing from the corridor outside, startled Brunt, long before human ears had noticed it. Quickly, Brunt put the latinum and his padd back in his portable safe and then hid it under the bed. No-one would seriously think that a Ferengi would pick such an obvious hideaway for his property. It was so simple and ingenious at the same time.

Whoever caused the steps outside hadn't reached the door yet and left Brunt enough time to hide in the small bathroom. „Computer, lights out!" he whispered and only a moment later, when the room was all dark, he heard the sound of the door chime. Whoever it was, that someone had come to see him and Brunt didn't like that. The chime, again. Nervously, the liquidator's hand searched the disruptor in the pocket of his tailcoat. If he had to die, he would die fighting. What choice did he have anyway? Not all his latinum would be enough to bribe his former business partners into a friendlier mood. With a little luck, the contents of the safe would be enough for a shuttle to disappear into the gamma quadrant for good. The door chime shrieked a third time, more demanding now, it seemed. I should have known that rule 192 isn't limited to Klingons, Brunt thought. One should also only cheat Orions if he was certain he'd get away with it.

„Brunt, I know you are in there! I checked the station logs!"

Brunt took a deep relieved breathe and let go of the disruptor. Quark didn't belong to the Syndicate. Quite the opposite; he had been a crown witness against them. That loser had, unlike himself, never managed to fulfil the requirements to join the Syndicate in the first place. Under normal circumstances, this fact was rather unpleasant for a Ferengi, but in this particular case, Brunt had traded places with Quark in a heartbeat. The Orions chasing him once were now in a high security prison on Vulcan.

„I have a business proposal for you!" Quark's voice came from the corridor. Slowly, Brunt crawled back to the bed, to make sure he had hidden the safe well enough. When he was certain, he got up, staggered through the darkness to the door and began to deactivate the many security systems. It took a while and when he finally opened the door, Quark glanced around with irritation. „Are the lights broken?" he asked. „No. I was sleeping", Brunt replied, trying to overplay his relief with annoyance. „Nice pajamas." Quark suspiciously watched him from head to toes. Brunt wasn't wearing pajamas, in fact, he looked as he always did. „Thanks", the liquidator grinned nonetheless. „Don't you want to invite me in?" Quark asked. „I would really prefer to sit when we discuss the benefits of sleeping with shoes." „Pff!" Brunt turned around and made room to let his visitor in. „Computer, lights."

Quark followed him and his glance crossed the bed. It didn't look like someone had been sleeping there a few moments ago. The door closed and Brunt gestured to the sofa, looking all but pleased by the disturbance. „Then sit", he said. „I would really like to offer you a snail juice, but as you know, my replicator..." Quark smiled a bit too friendly to look honest when he went over to the replicator instead of the sofa. „Snail juice, two glasses", he ordered and immediately, the device produced the drinks. Brunt stared at him angrily. „Do you expect me to thank you now?" he asked. „I got it. You got replicator sovereignty in this sector." „Oh please." Quark still grinned sweetly when he passed Brunt a glass. „My brother put the recipes back in the replicator", he added casually and walked over to the sofa to sit down. Brunt slowly followed him. „You'd rather pass on my latinum than try to get me into your bar with your shady tricks?" He seated himself on a chair and looked at Quark. But before he got an answer to his question, Brunt came up with a far more important question. „How did your brother get at my replicator anyway?"

Quark leaned back, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. He took a sip from the glass before answering. „Rom may be a moron, but he is really good with those technical things. Your little security systems were really no big problem for him." Brunt searched for words, but found only disgust and a bit panic. „Did you get the locks from Glek Security and Supervision?" Quark asked. Brunt silently nodded. „If I was in your place, I'd tell Glek to give me my latinum back." Quark smirked and drank some more snail juice. „Didn't you say you have a business proposal for me?" Brunt escaped to a more comfortable topic. Immediately, Quark's face switched to serious. „Yes, I do." He leaned foreward and put the glass on the table. „You see, my bar is going quite well, as you noticed during your last 'routine check'. It is a bad time for me to expand my business to the gamma quadrant; I can't leave the bar alone as long as I'm not sure if the new Bolian restaurant is serious competition or not." Brunt nodded, but his thoughts were busy otherwise. Why would his eternal nemesis really offer him a deal if the bar was going so well?

The eternal nemesis didn't notice or care about Brunt's distraction. „I do have some contacts in the gamma quadrant that would certainly be quite profitable if I only had the time to try", he continued. „And since you are going in that direction anyway... To make it short, I give you my contacts and recommendations, and you give me 15 percent from all deals you make with them." „Seven percent!" Brunt replied instinctively. Then he realized that the story about the orders from the Grand Nagus were just that - a story he had made up. And that he had no intention of ever returning from the gamma quadrant. So he would never pay Quark his share, and break the contract. Of course, Quark was his nemesis, but he was still a Ferengi. And a contract is a contract is a contract, at least between Ferengi; the 17th rule was quite clear about that.

„14 percent!" Quark's voice pulled him back to the here and now. „Nine!" He'd just send the latinum back with a freighter. There were always freighters going through the wormhole and back. „Eleven!" „Ten!" Yes, that was the solution. And a few contacts wouldn't be the worst start for a new life. „Done." Quark got up and took his glass from the table. He drank it out and went to the door, Brunt remained on the chair. „I'll give you my data tomorrow", Quark said and opened the door. „Don't forget to activate your security systems." He grinned and left the room. As soon as the door was closed, Brunt jumped up and began activating the locks and alarm systems. When he switched the last one on, he wondered if it was worth the risk to contact Glek and demand his money back.


	5. Chapter 5

**Rule 95: Expand or die!**

**Nausicaan raider Maoth'ai**

Shuttle Bay

„And everyone else is wanted by the Bajoran authorities?"

Ravennah Tel'Koa, kaghan of the Maoth'ai looked around, amused and annoyed at the same time. Besides herself, there were only three crew members in the shuttle bay. „Not everyone, but those not wanted on Bajor are wanted by the Federation", Ariev replied. „The station may be Bajoran, officially, but it's run by the Feds. Better safe than sorry." „Why do we have to go to that station anyway?" Maahir, the ship's pilot, asked. „Because we don't want to cross the entire quadrant to get to Ferenginar. The Maquis raids are getting worse, and even independant freighters are checked all the time", Ravennah sighed. „And we can assume that also goes for Nausicaan raiders", Ariev added. Maahir rolled his eyes. „Not that we wouldn't draw attention with a different ship." „That's why we will take the shuttle", Ravennah replied. „Deep Space Nine is the last stop before the wormhole. You can bet the Ferengi have enough interest in the territory on the other side to frequently stop by. And we have, if neccessary, a short cut to Breen space."

The door of the shuttle next to the trio opened and a suspiciously scaly Klingon stepped out. „Can we get on the way now? I didn't plan to stay sober all day." Ravennah turned to him, then looked back to Ariev and Maahir. „Agreed. And after all, we don't get the chance to get drunk on a Fed station every day."

**Deep Space Nine, Promenade, Quark's**

„Buuuut... why did you give Brunt your information? I, er, I thought you think he's going to fail? And now you're helping him win the bet against you?" Rom pulled his head out of the replicator he was repairing and watched Quark with obvious confusion.  
„No lobes and nothing between them..." Quark sighed, more to himself. He put two glasses on a tray and ordered a waiter to serve the drinks, then he looked back at Rom. „Though it appears to run in the family, I'm not stupid", he said. „Before I went to see Brunt yesterday, I talked to Moogie." Rom stopped searching his toolbox and a wide smile appeared on his face. „Oh, Moogie! How is she? Did she like her vacation with Zek?" „Yeah, yeah, everything was fine", Quark shoved the question aside. „The point is, she was on Risa with Zek. For four months!" „Wow, I wish I had that much time for vacations!" Rom found the tool he had been looking for and got up to continue his work. „Rom, how stupid exactly are you? Don't you get it? She was on Risa. With Zek. Zek wasn't even on Ferenginar for the past four months. And you bet Brunt was not on Risa. The Nagus didn't send him here. Not to exploit the gamma quadrant or any other reason." He grabbed a bottle to fill Morn's glass, then continued. „Zek didn't talk to Brunt for months, and he had no idea he was here." „Hm", Rom said. „Maybe, er, maybe he just... forgot?" Quark closed the bottle and put it back on the board behind him. „Zek maybe, but Moogie wouldn't have forgotten", he replied. „No, I'm sure there's something going on here and I want to know what it is. Either Brunt wants to exploit the gamma quadrant alone - in which case I want my rightful share of the profits - or there's something bigger behind his story. It is suspicious enough that he even agreed to a deal with me, without Zek being involved."

Rom had just grabbed his tools to move on to the next task when Dr. Bashir and Miles O'Brien finished their darts game and came over to the bar for a syntheale or two. „What's going on around here today anyway?" the Chief asked when Quark began to fill their glasses. „What do you mean?" He glanced around. „For my taste, it's certainly not enough." O'Brien nodded to one of the tables near the dart board. „Interesting audience today." Quark placed the glasses in front of O'Brien and Bashir and briefly looked over. „What's interesting about that? Two guys drinking blood wine. You see that all day since the Rotarran docked for repairs." „Two half-Cardassians drinking blood wine, that is not exactly ordinary", Bashir pointed out. „So what? As long as they pay, they can be five-headed hadrosaurs if they like." Quark shrugged and began to mix a cocktail. „Oh come on, Quark!" O'Brien began. „Even you don't see that every day, a half-Klingon and a half-Vulcan..." „Wrong!" Quark interrupted and took a new glass. „Half Romulan. They're half brothers, too. But who cares, if they pay in full, right?" „How do you...?" Bashir started, but didn't bother to finish his question when the Ferengi just pointed at his ears. „Arrived with a shuttle about two hours ago", he explained while juggling two bottles. „Probably traders from Breen space, or miners on vacation."

„Seeing how un-interesting they are, you listened pretty closely", the Chief smirked. Quark finished his cocktail and put the two glasses on the counter for a waiter to pick them up. He leaned closer to his guests. „To know that, I don't have to listen at all", he told them. „Why do you think you see people like them so rarely?" „You tell me", Bashir replied. He reached for his drink, and so did O'Brien. „Think about it. Do these two look like they are very popular on Cardassia? Or Qo'noS? Or Romulus?" Bashir and O'Brien shook their heads. „Do they look like they are very popular anywhere else?" Quark continued. Again, Bashir and O'Brien shook their heads. „Exactly. But there is, in fact, a part of space where people like them are very welcome. And that's the territory of the Breen. You Federation people think Breen aren't the socialites of the quadrant, and that's true for the most part. But they are very interested in trade and workers. They like their isolation for the sake of cultural purity..." „Wait a second, didn't you say a Breen made one of your rules of acquisition?" Bashir interrupted. „That sounds like cultural exchange to me." O'Brien just listened and put his empty glass back on the counter. „Yes, actually that's right. The 95th rule, 'Expand or die', was written by a Breen", Quark confirmed and reached for a bottle. He began to fill the chief's glass. „Let me put it like this. The Breen like to culturally influence others. They just don't like being influenced at all." He reached for Bashir's glass to refill it, too. „And that is why the Breen are more open towards people that lack real cultural roots. People that have nothing to influence them with."

„Then I assume these two are friends of the Breen, too?" O'Brien's glance followed two guests who had just entered the bar. „I didn't even know that's genetically possible..." Bashir muttered, surprised. Quark just shrugged and returned to preparing cocktails. „What are they?" O'Brien whispered to Bashir. „He's clearly part Andorian and from the color, I'd say... Orion", the doctor quietly replied. „And she? Cardassian, Klingon... But the teeth?" He stopped and watched for a moment. „Looks Nausicaan to me, but all I can say for sure is that it's a genetic mess." „Tsk, nothing is impossible in Breen space", Quark stated louder, barely interested in the conspirative conversation. He handed a waiter some glasses and turned back to Bashir, who was still trying to figure out the genetic mystery. „And you, stop staring at my guests like that. It's bad for business!"

**Deep Space Nine, Habitat Ring**

Carefully, Brunt peeked around the corner of the corridor. No-one in sight, but he tried to move quietly nonetheless. Meanwhile, he regretted having left the promenade in the first place; after all, murder was less likely there than in the loneliness of his quarters. But after that oh-so-correct security chief had denied his request for personal bodyguards, it seemed appropriate to storm out of the office and into the turbo lift to express his outrage. On the way to his quarters, Brunt had considered asking Captain Sisko for political asylum. But then he had realized that would make him a loser like Quark. The Federation wouldn't simply grant his request. He would have to admit that he had done business with the Syndicate; that he had thought he could outsmart them, and then got caught concealing 100 bars of latinum. And then the Federation would ask him to testify against the Syndicate, and then the Syndicate would still and even more devotedly try to kill him. And he'd be exactly where he was now. So the only option remaining was to silently disappear through the wormhole, into a new quadrant and a new life.

Finally, he reached the turbo lift to return to the promenade. Brunt stepped in and hoped no-one would join on the way down. The Syndicate had their agents everywhere. One couldn't be careful enough. Frozen accounts and random stock purchases had proven to be effective to disguise his steps, but when - not if - the Syndicate figured out what tricks he was using, he'd better be far, far away.

His silent prayers were heard. The turbo lift didn't stop on the way and he reached the promenade alone. Here, the liquidator felt a bit better. Bajoran securities were working extra shifts lately, to stop any conflicts between Starfleet officers, civilians and Klingons before they could escalate. Brunt took a deep breathe, put on the invisible mask of superiority and walked over to Quark's bar.


	6. Chapter 6

**Rule 21: Never place friendship over profit.**

**Deep Space Nine, Promenade, Quark's**

„Buy for 300."

Quark pushed the Tongo wheel and looked over his cards. Dax nodded and watched her own hand. „Sell, 400", she said after a while. „By the way, who was the lady you were talking to so late last night?" She threw two slips of latinum into the bowl in the middle of the table and looked over at Quark. „Tsk, you should know that you can't distract me with that!" Dax pushed the wheel and nodded to Krell, one of the Ferengi waiters. „And you should know that I'm not trying to distract you, but am simply curious." „Sell, 350." Krell put two slips of latinum in the pot and pushed the wheel; the turn moved to Gol at his left. „Whatever happened to privacy?" Quark sighed. „A customer, that's all." Dax grinned and glanced over to the bar. „A very good customer, I assume?" „What do you mean?" Quark put on his innocent face and shrugged. „That not every customer plays with your ears." She looked at him with a knowing smile. „It's how Ferengi do business", Quark replied. „Or wait, are you jealous?" He grinned. „It's tearing me apart", Dax said and tried not to laugh. „Confront." She put her cards on the table and Quark's grin died. „You know what they say about gambling and love", Dax remarked and took her latinum out of the bowl.

**Habitat Ring, Corridor H-12-A, quarters of the Maoth'ai crew**

„I thought this place would be overrun by Ferengi."

Maahir's antennae pointed at Ravennah like accusing fingers. She leaned back in the sofa and sighed. „Same here." She put her feet on the table. „Guess we can forget about finding the matching mouth piece to sell the crap in the cargo bay?" Maahir walked over to the replicator. „Andorian ale." The glass began materializing and he took it. „We need to be careful, that's all", Ravennah replied and grabbed a bottle of Kanar that had been laying next to her on the sofa. „The one in the bar is too much of a risk. A lot of friends in the Federation, permanently watched by the station's security chief. Brother works for the Bajorans and the nephew is at Starfleet Academy." She opened the bottle and took a sip. „What about the waiters?" Maahir returned to the table and seated himself on a chair. Ravennah laughed, showing the entire range of sharp teeth. Parts of the inferior Klingon and Nausicaan genes had won the battle against the Cardassian majority, at least within her mouth. „If they had any contacts to rich customers, or any real ambition to get them..." she began. „...then they wouldn't be waiters on a Federation station", Maahir finished the sentence and emptied his glass. Ravennah nodded. „Exactly. They are not an option." She threw the bottle over her shoulder, onto the bed. „And where are Ariev and Dh'amon?" She glanced over to the door, Maahir's eyes followed. „Let's hope they were more successful", he stated when the door, against the expectations of both, did not open. „It's not as if we had no success at all", she grinned and watched the bottle top in her hand. „Oh yes, when it comes to hitting on every lobe in sight, you were certainly quite successful", Maahir sighed. He got up to go back to the replicator, Ravennah kept on grinning. „Problem is, oo-mox won't sell the damn artifacts." „You never know where it gets you", his kaghan replied from the sofa.

Four Andorian Ales and a quarter bottle of Kanar later the door finally rang. Slightly staggering, Maahir moved over to open. „You got something?" he welcomed the brothers when they just shoved him aside to step in. „Probably nothing you don't know by now", Ariev said, frustrated. Dh'amon said nothing, he went straight for the replicator to order blood wine. The door closed and Ariev fell on a chair next to Ravennah. „Took a bit to modify the shuttle's scanners, but at least we didn't trigger any alerts", he said. Dh'amon and Maahir joined them around the table, carrying three glasses. „There are 16 Ferengi on the station", Dhamon said and drank some blood wine. „I expected more, somehow. However, when we scanned, eight of them were in the bar, five in quarters in the staff section, one in a Jefferies' tube in pylon 3 and one in a quarter, two sections from here." Ravennah sat up, looking thoughtful. „I saw some playing Tongo in the bar. Staff quarters is a bad sign for us, probably waiters or something. Pylon 3 has to be the technician brother of the barkeeper... Leaves the question, why didn't we notice there's a Ferengi on this corridor?" She looked from one crewmember to another. Dh'amon shrugged. „Maybe we should just go check on him", he said.

**Promenade, Quark's**

„What are you doing here?"

Quark didn't even look up from the table and kept dealing the cards. „If you don't want my money, I can leave." Brunt shrugged and turned to go. „What's wrong with letting him play?" Dax whispered to Quark. „Are you afraid of losing to him?" „Tsk, he's not that good", Quark replied, but finally looked up. „Alright. We start at three strips." Brunt stopped, watched Quark from head to toe, then nodded and pulled over a chair. „I should have known it's not for real money", he said. „My mistake, after all it's a round allowing... clothed females." He gave Jadzia a disgusted glance and threw the three strips in the bowl. „She plays better than you." Quark handed him the cards. „If you are so certain that a clothed female doesn't belong at a Tongo table, you certainly don't mind doubling, right?" Surprised, Dax raised an eyebrow. „Quark, I didn't know you thought of me as such a good gambler..." „Respect where it's due", Quark replied without taking the eyes from Brunt.

„Fine, double."

Brunt cursed himself for accepting this challenge when he put another three strips in the bowl. He had no idea when he would be able to access his bank accounts again and it was certainly not the smartest thing to do to gamble with his reserves. But he couldn't give Quark the satisfaction of backing off from the challenge. How good could a clothed female, - not even a Ferengi - play, after all? This was probably nothing more than another sad attempt of Quark's to impress his Starfleet friends. It wouldn't be the first time that he tried to act so tolerant and open minded; betrayed his culture and seemed even proud of it.

„Did you get a chance to look at my data?" Quark asked casually and pushed the Tongo wheel. Brunt studied his cards as if the wisdom of the universe was written on them. „Buy, 500", he said after a while. „And yes, I had a few minutes to read what you gave me." He threw a strip of latinum in the bowl and nodded to the waiter to his left. „Actually, it wasn't really impressive." Quark reached for his cocktail, drank a sip and calmly replied: „I'm sure a 'capable man' like you can work with it though."


	7. Chapter 7

**Rule 62: The bigger the risk, the greater the profit**

It could have been worse. Well, not much worse, but still worse. He could have lost almost all his financial resources to a clothed female. But Quark had lost this little bet. Brunt was a better Tongo player than he wanted to admit in the end. Of course, Quark claimed it was 'luck' that Jadzia had been driven into bankruptcy by Krell and Brunt didn't have to go into direct competition. But he knew as well as any other Ferengi that Tongo had nothing to do with luck. That Krell had eliminated Jadzia was the result of male business instincts, underpaid waiter or not. And due to this small triumph over Quark and his pathetic attempt to impress his Federation friends it didn't seem like that much of a catastrophe to Brunt that Krell had not only eliminated Jadzia, but everyone on the table.

Brunt thought about his remaining assets. Three bars, 16 strips and 44 slips were left. It wouldn't be enough for a shuttle. But it might be enough to bribe a transporter (freighter? Using the word "transporter" didn't make me think spaceship in Star Trek) captain to make no entry in the passenger list.

At this late hour, the hallways were not as crowded as they were during the daytime. Actually, the hallways in the guest quarter section were empty, except for two Bajoran security guards near the turbo lift. They were more intent on having a whispered conversation than really guarding anything; something about the upcoming Gratitude Festival on Bajor. They were probably not aware of the fact that Brunt could still understand every single word of their spiritual babble three corridors away from them. If one could simply write down all of his worries on some cheap scroll and then burn them, there would be no currency fluctuations, the liquidator thought. And no head hunters of the Syndicate.

Finally the Bajorans were out of hearing range and Brunt had almost reached his quarters. Carefully, he peeked around the last corner before moving on. No-one was there, so he made a step into the corridor only a second later and regretted not looking more closely. Two Flaxians stood near the door on the opposite side of the wall, their arms crossed, obviously waiting for someone. Brunt froze in his movements like a lizard that was suddenly exposed to great cold. His instinct told him to turn around and run back to the security guards. His body generally agreed, but refused to act on the order. Quite the opposite - his legs felt heavy like solid metal, his hand didn't want to reach under his jacket and pull the disruptor; just his heartbeat went into dangerous competition with that of a coolibri.

„Finally", one of the Flaxians remarked. „We were almost tired of waiting for you." Ironically, the only clear thought Brunt had was that his theory had been right. It really was less likely for a person to be killed on the promenade than here. „But then, we used the time to discuss ideas for how to get your statement regarding the latinum", the second Flaxian added and stepped a bit closer to Brunt. He finally got his body to take orders again and reached for his disruptor. The Flaxian's eyes followed his hand with amusement. „Now that's cute", he said. „Are we trying to pull a weapon?" He nodded over his shoulder to his companion. „My friend over there is very interested in weapons, you know?" The Flaxian who still leaned on the door smiled and nodded; Brunt's desperation grew more and more as he realized the disruptor was stuck in his pocket. „He's the record holder for rapid fire on Dalos II", the Flaxian continued. „Pulls, aims and hits any target in less than a second." „Listen, maybe we can reach a compromise of some sort..." Brunt stuttered. „Three bars of latinum and we forget about this unfortunate situation?"

For a moment, the Flaxians exchanged a glance silently, then both began to laugh. „How stupid, exactly, do you think we are?" the more talkative one asked. „You kept 100 bars that were meant for the Syndicate. They pay us 15 bars if we find out where you're hiding the latinum - and bring our boss your head." He reached for a short dagger on his belt, but before he could come any closer to Brunt with his weapon, he stopped in surprise.

„I'll take the three bars."

The woman who had entered the corridor didn't look like someone to mess with - especially not if one was a head shorter, couldn't get the disruptor out of his pocket and was threatened by two head hunters. Her hair was long, black and ruffled, much like the typical Nausicaan looked, but her forehead suggested Klingon ancestors - if one ignored the Cardassian ridges around the eyes. Her patched leather coat was decorated with military badges of all kinds; around her neck, she wore a necklace with an illustrious collection of what looked like trophies. Cardassian neck bones, emblems of Klingon houses, Nausicaan as well as Lethean teeth, Yridian cargo plates and a mesh of unidentifyable objects. What gave Brunt the final hint to not mess with her - if he really needed one - was the long jagged dagger in her hand.

The Flaxians were more irritated than impressed by her presence, though a bit hesitant to commit to any particular activity. Brunt on the other hand got quite clear instructions. The woman stepped closer to him, the sharp dagger dangerously close to his throat, and nodded at her open hand. „The bars, now, and those guys won't get their bounty." She nodded over her shoulder to the Flaxians. It took a moment for Brunt to get over his newly shock and confusion. „Three bars and you'll collect the bounty instead?" he mumbled. The Flaxians - and the woman with the dagger - laughed. „Three bars and you'll not get killed", she corrected him. Brunt didn't have to think much. He let go of his attempt to free the disruptor, reached into his other pocket, got the three bars of latinum he had left, and put them in the waiting hand. Sometimes, life was not that unfair, after all, he thought, but had to rethink this only a moment later.

The dagger moved away from his throat and the woman turned around to the Flaxians. „Six bars, payable within 26 hours. Anyone bidding six bars?" A rush of disbelief and panic ran through every pore of Brunt's body. This could not be. His one way out of this mess, the chance to get away like a real Ferengi - by paying someone, and now this? Now that damn female was doing exactly what he would have done in her place and making it an auction? The Flaxians, on the other hand, were not shocked at all. They were obviously amused. „Six bars", one of them nodded with a grin. A part of Brunt wished he had been shot, quick and painless, a minute ago. „Six bars are offered, do I hear nine?" The woman turned back to him. Payable within 26 hours, Brunt thought. The Syndicate had found him anyway, now it didn't matter if they would see any transactions of his bank accounts. He nodded silently; the female grinned, satisfied, and looked back to the head hunters. „Nine bars are offered, twelve?" The talkative Flaxian laughed. „You know, I really shouldn't waste my latinum on this joke, but I find it way too funny to see a Ferengi beaten with his own best weapons. Twelve."

Even if she'd ask for 100 bars next, Brunt was very willing to pay it. He wouldn't have made any profit from his little deal with the Syndicate, but he would have gotten away with his life and that was something not everyone could say after cheating the Orions.

„My pleasure to add to your entertainment", the female smirked, then turned back to Brunt. „Maybe it will be even more entertaining if we make this little auction a bit more... thrilling. 15 bars and a finger." She grinned; Brunt's heart almost stopped. What kept him conscious was the ninth rule of acquisition - opportunity plus instinct equals profit. His instinct told him that the Flaxians only got 15 bars for his head, but the next bid would likely be 18 bars. If there was a chance they'd drop out, it was now. A new finger would cost around 25 bars. 35 if Dr. Orpax did the surgery. In total, that was still a profit of 50 bars, and pain was - like everything except latinum - transient. And this female seemed to speak his language. There was still a chance she'd take a bribe to give him some anesthetization later. Brunt sent a silent prayer to the Blessed Enchequer, then he nodded.

The damn female smiled a satisfied smile when she turned back to the Flaxians. „18 bars an an arm." It seemed the Blessed Enchequer had mercy on Brunt. The head hunters didn't look very amused anymore. „I think we were entertained enough for now", the talkative one explained; the other reached under his jacket, probably to pull a weapon and demonstrate his record-winning rapid fire skills. The female was unimpressed. „Don't bother", she said calmly. „Your disruptor won't work." „Let that be my concern", the Flaxian hissed back, just to realize a moment later that she was right. He really couldn't fire his weapon; the trigger simply did nothing at all. He swore quietly in Flaxian and tried to find the problem, Brunt took a deep relieved breath. He would really survive this story. Not entirely, but mostly, in one piece.

„Do you like my disruptor dampening field?"

Ariev had entered the corridor and watched the Flaxian with amusement. The head hunter didn't look up, he was still busy trying to fix his weapon. „I'll sell it to you for five bars", Ariev added. „It's really handy in your line of work." Now the rapid fire champion looked up, angrily, but still said nothing. His partner didn't waste the time pulling and checking his own disruptor; he lifted his dagger. „Two versus two", he said slowly. „The irony of people like us being so eager for a fair fight..." Brunt's eyes scanned the man with the disruptor dampening field. Another crossbreed; the Cardassians had been quite busy with 'cultural exchange' with other species decades ago. Two professional head hunters on one side, two unpredictable risks on the other. Lose a finger or lose the head.

„Fair play? Only losers like fair play." A third voice, and when Brunt's eyes found the owner of it, he knew he'd only lose the finger. There was clearly a Cardassian involved in this genetic accident and it wasn't hard to guess which side the man was on. The Flaxians realized they were heading towards a quite unfair confrontation and forgot about plans involving the repair of their disruptor. Slowly and without turning their backs to Brunt and his newfound bodyguards, they moved away to the turbo lift. „This isn't over, Ferengi!" the one with the dagger hissed, then they disappeared around the corner.


	8. Chapter 8

**Rule 121: Everything is for sale, even friendship.**

The Flaxians had left the scene and Brunt began to realize he could breathe. But as soon as he made use of this re-discovered ability, he also realized that he was alone with three pretty shady individuals now, and that he owed one of them 12 bars of latinum and a finger. A contract was a contract was a contract, though only between Ferengi, he thought. But there was little chance he'd be able to talk his way out of this debt.

„Kaghan Ravennah Tel'Koa, sorta loyal business partner of the Breen Confederacy", Ravennah introduced herself. She looked and sounded bored and kept playing around with her dagger. „Brunt... F... C... A..." Brunt replied in a hesitant attempt to be polite. He stepped back a bit when Ravennah came closer, and hit the wall. Before he could even think about evading, she had grabbed his wrist and pressed his arm against the wall; the hand next to his lobe now. She smiled and lifted the dagger. „Your choice", she whispered. „Will it be the index finger, the ring finger? You never know which one you need in the future." Cold sweat appeared on Brunt's forehead. „How much... would I have to pay... for... anesthetization?" he stuttered. He hadn't expected to accomplish anything with that, but Ravennah turned to her companions. „Ariev?" The half-Romulan pretended to look thoughtful. „Oh, I'm afraid that might be difficult", he said slowly. „Our shuttle has no sickbay, and the risk for breaking into the medical facilities of this station is not justified by the gain." Dh'amon stepped closer to Ravennah and Brunt. „I suggest we do it the easy way", he said, grinning at his fist. „Clean, quick, and just a small headache you won't mind." „We could simply skip that part", Ariev added. „We pick the finger, a clean cut, deal done."

Brunt decided to just give in to the inevitable. The sooner it would be over the better. „Alright... alright... Just... make it quick..." he gasped. To his surprise, Ravennah didn't only pull back the dagger, she put it back under her coat. A bit confused, Brunt looked up to her. She let go of his wrist and his journey toward utter confusion was complete. He looked at his own hand, now free, then back to Ravennah. She didn't see a need to explain herself; she just grinned. „I... thought... you'd do it... now?" Brunt began, but stopped when he realized his confusion could actually grow worse. Ravennah's finger traced his lobe carefully. „The Flaxians are gone, silly. We can stop acting now." „Er... what?" Brunt replied. He did indeed feel silly, as he had no damn idea what was going on. „Oh." Now Ravennah seemed surprised, too. „From the homeworld, yes?" she asked and let go of the lobe. „Guess it's all a bit different there. We should continue our business over a Kanar." She grabbed Brunt's arm and dragged him to the door of his quarters.

„When Nausicaans made first contact with Ferenginar, there was a little... misunderstanding", Dh'amon explained when they had reached the sofa in Brunt's quarters. „The universal translators were not too effective back then, and some important parts of the Nausicaan language were lost in translation." Ravennah, more laying than sitting on the sofa, next to Brunt, watched his ear curiously. „We have over 90 terms for war and conflict, but we lack less... hostile words", she continued to explain. „What comes closest to a declaration of friendship, or at least absence of hostility, was translated word for word - I'll cut off your finger. But that is slang. It basically means 'I'll do no major harm to you'. No-one got it back then."

Ariev took a bottle of Kanar from the replicator, threw it over to Ravennah and addressed Brunt. „You want a drink?" Slowly, the Ferengi nodded. „Ant juice, no shells?" Ariev turned back to the replicator. „I hate shells, personally", he said. „Grinds so much between the teeth." Brunt was about to express his surprise about an alien knowing so much about ant juice, but Ravennah was quicker. „I assumed a Ferengi, so far from homeworld, would know the phrase 'cut off a finger' and you would know what our deal really was." She leaned over to Brunt, still watching his lobe. „I... only owe you... 12 bars of latinum?" he concluded. Ravennah nodded. „That, and dinner", she grinned. Brunt stared at her in shock. Did he get that right? She wanted him to go out with a clothed female? Since this clothed female and her friends had just saved him from the Flaxian head hunters, he felt it was not a smart move to voice his disgust, so he swallowed it and just asked: „Why that?"

Ravennah's finger moved up his arm, toward his ear. „Rule of Acquisition 214 - Never begin a negotiation on an empty stomach", she replied. „And we have a lot to negotiate." Brunt wanted to object, but he was much too stunned to have heard a Rule of Acquisition, correctly quoted, from a clothed female - and not even a Ferengi female. „Yeah, I know, Rule 94", this female sighed. „Females and finances don' mix, bla." Her finger reached Brunt's neck; he swallowed. If that finger would find its way to his lobe, it was quite possible he would agree to some quite stupid things.

Frantically, he tried to find a more or less polite excuse to not have dinner with the female. If Quark saw him with this person, there's no telling what he'd tell the Grand Nagus! A liquidator of the FCA, strolling around with a clothed female in public! Even doing business with her! Something like this could easily cost him his job. And when Brunt's thoughts arrived at this conclusion, he also realized that he would need a job in the future - as long as this genetically undecided group would keep the Orions away from him. A quite uncomfortable dilemma - but refusing the dinner was clearly the wrong thing to do, as long as the Flaxians were on the station. „And... where... do you... want to go?" he asked, hoping she'd say it was just another misunderstanding or a joke. She didn't. But she also didn't say what Brunt had feared most, Quark's.

Ravennah sat up and opened the Kanar bottle, with the side effect of not targeting his ear with her finger anymore. „I haven't had Bolian soufflé in ages", she said after taking a sip. „Or isn't it customary in the Bolian restaurant on the promenade if females chew the food for the males?" (somewhat confused about the meaning here. "Or is it customary?" or "Or is it not customary?") Brunt just stared at her, mouth wide open, almost dropping his glass of ant juice. „She's joking" Ariev disillusioned him. „But the Bolian restaurant seems a good choice. We've been there earlier today." Dh'amon nodded. „The tomato soup is a dream", he said. „And the audience doesn't watch their pockets." Brunt faked a smile. „Alright, Bolian it is..." he sighed.

Dh'amon got up from his chair. „Good, then it's settled, I guess." He looked over at Ariev, who also got up. „We'll go throw the Flaxians out of an air lock, just in case. Won't take long." The brothers walked over to the door, had no notable trouble with Brunt's expensive alert systems, and disappeared to the outside.

„They'll be back?" Brunt turned to Ravennah. „I... wanted to get some sleep..." „You paid 15 bars of latinum for protection", she told him. „So there'll be a night watch. But no worries, they won't disturb you." Brunt was still not so sure he liked all this, but he nodded. In case the remark about the air lock had been a joke, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the universe to have bodyguards around at night. „Can I... ask you something?" he made an attempt to change the topic. „Sure." Ravennah drank from her Kanar bottle and waited while Brunt was searching for not too insulting words. „Did you have to scare me like that?" he asked, a bit shocked about his straightforewardness. She grinned instead of spitting out death threats. „No, I didn't have to", she said. „Let's say it's a bad habit of mine, to play around. But you can be certain about one thing..." She moved a bit closer, looking into his eyes. Something about the way she looked at him let Brunt know she was really serious this time, but he couldn't pinpoint what exactly it was. „It wasn't my intention to scare you", Ravennah continued. „It's just... for fun. You know as well as I do that no-one expects people to take a Ferengi's side. And if we, my crew and I, play such games, they are always staged, and we always know who'll win before we start playing. And that winner is always the Ferengi and never the other side. You must admit, it is fun to see the stupid faces of the losers." Slowly, Brunt nodded. Thinking back, the faces of the head hunters had been priceless. Maybe, his luck had finally changed and he would really get out of this alive...

„About the negotiations tomorrow..." he began, carefully watching his bodyguard's reaction. Dinner was one thing, but actually doing business with a female was a whole different story. „We'll talk about that tomorrow, after dinner", Ravennah interrupted and got up. Brunt followed her to the door, still looking for an elegant way out of this situation. „You know, Rule 94, and in my line of work..." he tried again when they reached the door. „Yeah, I know", Ravennah replied, unimpressed. Before Brunt could finish his sentence, he found himself with his back against the wall and the female holding his wrists like iron handcuffs. „But no-one needs to know about our business, right?" Hastily, Brunt nodded, as much as he could with his limited range of movement. „It's just, you know... I could lose my job if someone finds out... I don't even know you, how can I trust you then?" he stuttered. The female grinned. „Well, looks like we'll both break a Rule of Acquisition", she smiled. „I'll trust someone wearing a better suit than me, and you'll trust someone taller than you." She kissed his forehead, let go of his wrists and left the room without another word.


	9. Chapter 9

**Rule 236: You can't buy fate.**

Brunt didn't like to admit it, but he'd had an unexpected restful night. The brothers had managed to keep quiet after they had returned to his quarters. During the night, as far as Brunt could tell, they had played a card game that involved no verbal announcements at all, was played extremly slow, and obviously mixing the cards wasn't neccessary either. Whatever this game was, the noises resulting from it where on a level that didn't bother a tired Ferengi and that was all he needed to know. If one - or both - of his bodyguards had slept he couldn't tell. He had. For the first time in weeks he had slept. Without waking startled at the tiniest sound, clutching at his disruptor and scanning the room for intruders of the Syndicate. Of course, he had still kept the disruptor under his pillow, even though he realized how pointless it was as long as Ariev had his disruptor dampening device.

The next day around late noon, Ariev and Dh'amon had left, saying they had to take care of 'certain things'. Brunt hadn't asked what these things were, he had just let them escort him to the promenade and then go wherever they had to go. He had eaten lunch at Quark's, the most crowded place at this time of the day, making it also the safest place to be. But now, when he had finished his meal and the bar slowly got emptier, he began to wonder if protection with such obvious breaks was really worth 15 bars of latinum. After the incident on the corridor, the night before, even two experienced head hunters like the Flaxians would have reconsidered their plans. Whether there were two half Cardassians playing cards in his quarters or not, they wouldn't have tried to slit his throat again that night. They had lingered somewhere, thought of a new strategy and then lured him away from the promenade to finish the job. In a moment that seemed just as harmless and safe as... right now.

Brunt's heart almost stopped when his wandering glance was drawn to two Flaxians. They stood, back to his table, at the bar, ordering drinks, it appeared. Brunt couldn't be certain if they had seen him earlier, or even if were the Flaxians trying to kill him. He also didn't know if it was wise to try and escape to the promenade. He tried to focus his thoughts. If he just stayed where he was, there was a chance the Flaxians wouldn't see him and just leave the bar. Or turn around and be just two other Flaxians he had never met. If he would get up and try to reach the crowded promenade, he would cross their range of sight. Damn, he had been in this bar so many times, and he had never checked for additional exits! There had to be another way out. A back door, some small corridor leading to the kitchen or storage room or something like that...

The Flaxians had meanwhile recieved the ordered drinks and turned around, looking for a table. And of course, one of them spotted Brunt, nodded to his companion and a moment later, both walked over to him, grinning. For a second, Brunt wanted to jump up and run to the exit. Maybe, just maybe, the Flaxians wouldn't want to spill their drinks and therefore, wouldn't pursue him. But in the next second, Brunt realized how ridiculous this thought was, and he was right. The Flaxians had reached his table, pulled chairs over and seated themselves.

„What a small station it is, don't you think, Ferengi?" the rapid fire champion smiled. „Indeed it is", the second Flaxian added. He reached under his jacket and pulled out a small flacon with a greenish liquid. „Do you know what this is?" he asked. Brunt managed to shake his head. He didn't know and he didn't want to know. „It's the extract of the Niberian bano fruit", the Flaxian said, as if it would explain anything. „It has a number of really interesting effects." The other Flaxian nodded. „A poison that kills really slowly", he added. „Before you die, you experience strong hallucinations, in combination with panic attacks and very painful cramps. But you'll be conscious and have enough time to tell us what we want to know." The head hunter opened the flacon, poured the liquid into Brunt's snail juice and smiled. „And by the way, I hear it also tastes great. You should try it." His eyes narrowed when he added: „Or we try later today after we learn how many stitches into a Ferengi skull I need to sharpen my dagger."

„Or you could try today's special offer."

A green hand slammed a high, thin bottle with a dull liquid onto the table; the label almost completely black. There was only a tiny white symbol on the upper border, and Brunt had never seen it before nor knew what it meant. But he didn't need to know. The hand of the self-proclaimed waiter was green; no doubt, the Syndicate had sent someone else to finish the job. And naturally, the Flaxians felt insulted because their boss had no trust in their abilities.

„Don't stick your nose into our business", one of the head hunters growled. The other one just stared at the bottle and the tiny symbol and it was hard to guess what he was thinking. When no-one said anything, the other Flaxian's glance slowly moved across the table, up the bottle and stopped at the symbol, too. For a moment, nothing happened. Then the Flaxians got up and hurried to the exit, without even turning around once. Brunt risked it, turned his head, and saw the head hunters leaving the bar to the promenade.

„Rule 239", the green waiter said and pulled over one of the chairs to sit down. „Never be afraid to mislabel a product." Just now, Brunt noticed that something was wrong with this Orion. Not only the irony of getting lectured on Ferengi law by his assassin. It was also the strange shade of green and most of all the antennae. „I'm... not sure I understand?" Brunt almost managed to get a complete sentence together.

Maahir opened his bottle and took a sip, then he offered the drink to Brunt. „It's Kanar. Bleached with rubar acid", he said. „Tastes awful, but gets the job done." The Ferengi watched him suspiciously. „It's not really poison?" Remembering something, he pushed his poisoned snail juice away. The Orion with the antennae laughed. „No, just looks toxic." He turned the bottle so Brunt could see the label. „It's the symbol of the Dao'Kkae, Nausicaan head hunters. Every head hunter in the quadrant knows it." He took another sip. „If the bottle was real, it would mean the Flaxians just made it on the blacklist of the Dao'Kkae." Finally, Brunt understood. „So the Syndicate didn't send you?" „If the Syndicate sent me..." Maahir repeated, amused and disgusted at once. „Actually, they did. They sent me away, years ago. My father is in the Syndicate. A boss, even. Got a slave girl for his birthday, from a business partner. And what a surprise, their son wasn't a pure Orion..." He watched his bottle, lost in thought. „So when I was too old to be hidden, my so-called father sent me away. So if that's your question, my answer is yes. The Syndicate did send me. Just not after you or anyone else." He grinned at Brunt. „But I'm not complaining. Ravennah got a keen sense for business. In a few years, after my naturalization on Breen, I can drink Kanar all day and spend the rest of my life sending Nausicaan pirates after my father."

He got up, but left the bottle on the table. „Have fun for now. There's still some time before the Bolian dinner." Maahir turned to leave, Brunt got up and followed him a few steps. „Wait a second! What am I supposed to do if the Flaxians come back?" he stuttered. Maahir stopped. „They won't", he said. „But just in case, I'll be around. If you need me, I'll be over at the Bajoran temple making sure the donations for the war orphans ends up in my pocket." Brunt wanted to reply, but Maahir just walked over to the door. Over his shoulder, he added: „Rule 144, you know..."

„Charity isn't a bad thing as long as the money ends up in your pocket..." Brunt sighed and nodded slowly.


	10. Chapter 10

**Rule 208: Sometimes the only thing more dangerous than a question is an answer.**

The Bolian restaurant had one big advantage. It was far from Quark's, on the opposite side of the promenade, and the risk of being seen by Quark or one of his regular customers was rather small. Bolian cuisine had no insects at all, but at least their food was more enjoyable than the oddities other species, for example Klingons, ate. Many people thought just because gagh and racht were worms of some sort, Ferengi would appreciate the Klingon 'cuisine', but most didn't. Brunt especially preferred the Bolian vegetarian food he had ordered, the most harmless thing on the menu, to those disgusting worms 'prepared' by Klingons. Prepared. They just threw their racht into a bowl and called it 'cooking'.

Even though Ariev had already explained that Ravennah had just been joking, Brunt was a bit disappointed that he had to chew his food himself. After all, he wasn't here by his free choice; not really. And, from his point of view, it was really not too much to ask from a female to show some courtesy. On the other hand, he was already thankful that she didn't display the same table manners - or absence of such - she showed behind closed doors. They had already made it to the end of the main dish and she hadn't thrown a single glass on the floor. Notably, she used glasses instead of drinking from the bottle... Judged by the standards of other guests, she showed pretty good manners and though a Ferengi couldn't completely agree, Brunt was glad she didn't draw more attention than necessary.

When it came to the conversation, Brunt was not so sure what to make of the evening. Every single attempt to discuss the upcoming business negotiations had failed. Ravennah had countered every mention of profit with the 214th Rule of Acquisition - and he had certainly tried more than once to bring it up. On the other hand, wisdom equaled profit and Brunt had gathered a lot of wisdom during the last two hours. About Nausicaan history, political reformations of the Breen Confederacy, price fluctuations of luxury goods in Cardassian border territories. Some of it would certainly be useful one day, Brunt tried to justify this waste of time to himself. However, there was one question left that he was really curious about. The reason why it hadn't been answered yet was - he hadn't asked it yet. When the waiter showed up to get the empty plates and make room for dessert, he found it was time to satisfy his curiosity.

„Excuse my bluntless", he began, as polite as possible in the presence of a clothed female. „I'm wondering... You refer to yourself as Nausicaan, you talk about citizenship on Breen; then the Nausicaan part of your ancestry seems to be, well, rather small. I just wonder..." Ravennah grinned, intentionally displaying her side tusks. „...why I still consider myself Nausicaan? My grandmother was Nausicaan. She... came to like... a Klingon... business partner", she explained and reached for her glass. „It wasn't exactly mutual though, but in the end, my mother was the result of their... short-lived... relationship." She drank, then watched the glass in her hand with a grin. „My mother followed the tradition, one could say. She came to... like... a Cardassian... supplier, again a... one-sided relationship, resulting in me." Brunt watched her suspiciously. „How do I have to take 'one-sided'?" he slowly asked, instinctively trying to move his chair a bit away from the table.

Ravennah looked up from her glass, still grinning. „Amazing. Our worlds have a long shared history, and you know so little about us..." She emptied the glass. „I assume my 'last name' doesn't ring a bell either?"

Brunt shook his head, Ravennah watched him skeptically. „Tel'Koa isn't a real name", she said after a while. „It means 'war child'; one of the many terms in Nausicaan language that caused... misunderstandings on first contact missions. When the first Nausicaans travelled to other worlds, to find new preying grounds, they also met the Irtokians, for example. As usual, they made official first contact with the political leaders to evaluate the world." She nodded to the waiter when he served new drinks, then continued to explain. „It was rather irritating that the Irtokians welcomed the scavengers with open arms, gave them gifts and offered them to help build a colony on Irtok."

Brunt listened with irritation, but he didn't interrupt. It finally felt like he might learn something useful about his new bodyguard and about the Nausicaans. Though he hadn't had any bad experiences with them - they were reliable business partners - he could hardly imagine someone would be that glad to see them. Ravennah took a sip from the new drink and continued. „As usual, the universal translator was to blame. It translated Tel'Koa as 'war child'. The Irtokians, like many other species, assumed these poor Nausicaans were the only survivors of a war on their world." She shook her head in amusement. „Idiots. The translation, word by word, is correct, but 'war child' doesn't equal 'war orphan' or similar terms in other languages. It doesn't describe a child born during times of war, Tel'Koa is a child meant to fight in a future war." She looked up from her glass with a wide grin. When she spoke again, her voice was so quiet that only a Ferengi could understand her on the opposite side of the table. „My ancestors were Tel'Koai'dhai, or - like other species translate incorrectly - black widows. They didn't 'like' Klingons or Cardassians, and my male ancestors were also no 'business partners'. They were defeated enemies, and their involuntary fatherhood, with a little aid of potions and poisons, humiliated them before their painful death."

Brunt almost dropped his glass and starred at Ravennah, mouth and eyes wide open. If these moments of perfect clarity really existed, he just experienced one. And in his perfect clarity, he wished that a transporter beam would come out of nowhere and transport him, well, anywhere, just far away from here. The reason of his horror seemed amused. She waited for the Bolian waiter to serve the dessert and leave the table before she reacted. „Oh, I know what you're thinking." She reached for the sticks and grinned. Brunt still didn't move and tried to transport himself to Ferenginar, using only the power of his imagination. It didn't work. Ravennah grabbed a piece of fruit with her sticks and balanced it over the table, directly in front of Brunt's open mouth. „First of all", she began. „Tel'Koai'Dhai only humiliate enemies in this manner. The Ferengi are not and have never been our enemies..." Brunt took the piece of fruit, hoping obedience would tame the beast. For the moment, it worked - Ravennah paid attention to her bowl now, and not feeling the yellow Nausicaan eyes burn into his own anymore already felt like a victory. „Secondly, it wouldn't even work." She ate a piece of fruit and looked at Brunt conciliatorily.

Cautiously, his hand moved towards his sticks. „And that means...?" he asked, uncertain if he really wanted to know. „My genetic potpourri isn't compatible with Ferengi", Ravennah explained. „Even if that was my intention, there's no way I could have a big eared spawn." She reached for her glass and grinned. „And you can trust me on that one. If it was possible, I'd have an army of greedy kids. No-one can be 'lucky' as many times as I would have needed it. In fact, I doubt there's anyone genetically compatible with the chaos I am. And so my family tradition dies - I can make out with the entire quadrant and never have to deal with any consequences. Incredible, isn't it?"

Brunt's hand froze near the sticks next to his bowl. For a moment, he had been on the way to recovering from the shock, but now he was back on red alert. The part Nausicaan threat on the opposite side of the table surprisingly didn't laugh about his reaction. Instead, she seemed a bit concerned when she picked up another piece of fruit to balance it over to his mouth. „You know, it's really not funny anymore", she said. „I thought you'd know I'm not trying to scare you or anything, but it appears you can't take a joke." Brunt took the fruit and returned her glance with confusion and a lot more suspicion. „Let me make myself clear", Ravennah said slowly. „I have no hostile intentions. My past affairs with Ferengi were just... easier than this. You see, your kind usually have a sense of humor and just aren't as uptight as you are. Unfortunately, right now, you are the kind of Ferengi I need. So let's get this straight. My crew and I mean you no harm. We only want to do business with you. Got it?"

Bashfully, Brunt looked up to her and nodded. The conversation of the last few hours had indeed made it quite clear that these people were not his enemies, and really only required his skills. And his behavior had been getting in the way of possible profits from this cooperation. Probably, he thought, he was just a bit too wary lately due to his encounter with the Orion headhunters and he was seeing danger where there was only latinum He was mentally almost ready to apologize when Ravennah got up. „You should be going now", she said quietly. „Wait in your quarters. Maahir is waiting outside and will escort you. I'll just get the data from my quarters." Brunt wanted to ask why she was suddenly in such a hurry, but then, in the corner of his eye, he saw that Ariev and Dh'amon had entered the restaurant. They were following two Lissepians who slowly moved through the room, looking around, appearantly searching for someone. „The Syndicate is persistant", Ravennah whispered. „You must have made quite an impression. I like it."


	11. Chapter 11

**Rule 98: Every man has a price.**

„By the Nagus, you are even more stupid than I feared all those years." Quark cleaned the counter and then threw the rag into the sink. „Er, maybe..." Rom's sorry attempt of a verbal defense seemed to prove his brother right. „But I'm not blind!" Quark slowly shook his head. „Yes, yes, I understand, you would really like to fool me for once, but it won't work with such a fairytale." He grabbed two glasses from the board and put them on the counter in front of Rom. „I know what I've seen!" he proclaimed. „Liquidator Brunt was in the Bolian restaurant, with a clothed female!"

„Nonsense." Quark filled his glass with root beer and poured himself an ant juice. „Why would I believe that? Of all living Ferengi... Well, no, it includes the dead ones, too... Of all Ferengi, Brunt is the one putting the Rules of Acquisition even above his own profit. If he really had dinner with a clothed female alien in a Bolian restaurant..." He quietly counted. „...he broke at least 40 of them." Rom reached for his glass. „You can ask Chief O'Brien! He saw them, too!" Quark rolled his eyes. „Didn't you say you were checking the environmental controls in the kitchen? How would any of you have seen what was going on outside in the restaurant from there?" „Ask Odo!" Rom replied. His brother sighed. „Oh, and now you're going to tell me the _Constable_ was also _eating_ in the Bolian restaurant or checking the controls with you and O'Brien? I tell you something. It does not add to the credibility of your story." „Odo wasn't there", Rom admitted. „But he knows how to watch people secretly. And he can explain to you how I could see from the kitchen that Brunt was there."

„He could, but Quark wouldn't understand it."

Quark swirled around and found the Constable standing in the door, arms crossed, trying to imitate a smile. „Oh, er, I didn't consider that..." Rom realized his mistake and caught Quark's angry glance. „Besides, I have indeed been in the Bolian restaurant, and your friend Brunt was indeed there with a woman", Odo continued. „However, it had nothing to do with the reason for my presence." „Oh? Then what were _you_ doing in a _restaurant? _Did the Bolian violate any security regulations? Will he have to close down?" Suddenly, Quark was all ears, but Odo disappointed him with obvious satisfaction. „No, not at all. I had to arrest two assassins. They were looking for a Ferengi, in the name of the Orion Syndicate." Quark dropped his glass and just stared at Odo.

The Constable nodded slowly. „You know, I never really believed you testified against the Syndicate last year, but now...?" „I... I thought the men I testified against were in a high security prison on Vulcan..." Quark stuttered. „You are in trouble, brother!" Rom pointed out. Odo shook his head undecidedly. „Possibly, yes. But the men I arrested refuse to cooperate. They didn't reveal any names; neither who hired them nor who they were after. The Syndicate uses several methods of intimidation, threatening family members, for example." He glanced at Rom. „Possibly they were not after your brother this time." Rom's mouth opened, but long before he could even begin to reply, Odo turned back to Quark. „Anyway, it is likely that you were the target. You are the only station resident who gave the Syndicate a reason to seek revenge. But since the two gentlemen also had a warrant on a Klingon colony, and I executed it based on our current agreements with the Empire, you won't have to worry about it anymore." The Ferengi sighed in relief, but the Constable still seemed troubled. He turned to leave, but then stopped and glanced over to Quark. „I'm really not a businessman, but sometimes I think you don't appreciate your customers at all. If two of them hadn't given me the information that criminals wanted by the Klingon Empire arrived on the station, it is possible you'd already be dead by now." „I guess they get a drink on the house next time", Quark mumbled. „So, who were these customers?" Odo shrugged. „Strange fellows. Half Cardassians. No warrants, and that was the part that surprised me most, seeing your usual company."

**Habitat Ring, Brunt's Quarters**

Everything that was stolen was pure profit, the 14th Rule of Acquisition said, and damn, this was about a lot of pure profit. Brunt checked the inventory list another time, and again he giggled uncontrolled when he read certain lines. „I told you that you wouldn't care about the 149th Rule once you saw the inventory." Ravennah returned to the sofa from the replicator with two glasses. Brunt's delighted grin disappeared and he now looked a bit concerned. „But still, no-one is going to know about this deal, right?" Of course, according to Rule of Acquisition 283, rules were always open for interpretation, but for a Liquidator of the FCA, such far-fetched interpretations about doing business with females were still a different story.

Ravennah put the glasses on the table and sat down next to Brunt. „As long as you don't try to double cross me, I'll be as secretive as a Vulcan monk." „Speaking of Vulcan monks, these meditation bowls are worth 20 bars more than you listed." Brunt was immediately focused on the inventory again and checked for more prices to correct - upwards. „Now you see why we need you." Ravennah handed him a glass. „Someone like me has no detailed knowledge about the value, and lacks of the... empathy with customers to make the best possible profit." She tugged his collar, decorated with tacky jewels. „Someone with more class, like you, can make the most of it. Do we have a deal?"

Her tactics were cheap, but they worked. Brunt felt complimented enough to ignore the remaining doubts about this deal. He simply wiped them away with the 25th Rule when he nodded. Fear made indeed an excellent business partner. And he didn't have to regard Ravennah as a female. Some pirates with the ability to scare off Syndicate head hunters, that clearly qualified as 'fear'. Art trade, at first sight, seemed to be a quite peaceful business, but on second sight, things looked very different. Art of this price class, and even more with this cultural background, was popular with far less popular clients. Megalomaniac dictators, war faring regents and religious zealots were just some examples - over all, it was a terrain one would rather enter with some ruthless pirates on his side than without.

Brunt took a deep breath. Now, he had to bother with the truly difficult part of the deal. Even a Ferengi in trouble would never do something for free, the 203rd Rule of Acquisition dictated. And that meant he had to come to a financial agreement with this clothed female. „I want 30 percent", he said with a confident voice and the absolute certainty to never get away with it. „I can imagine", Ravennah nodded, unimpressed. „But how about 3 percent instead?" Brunt shook his head. „Never. 28." The 67th Rule said 'enough is never enough' for a reason, and three percent was far from enough - whichever 'enough' served as reference. „You know, we could make this easy", Ravennah thought loudly. „I could say if you aren't happy with three percent, I just drop you off on the steps of the next Orions I find." Brunt watched her angrily from the corner of his eye. He should have known it would end like this. „But..." the sneaky beast continued and took a sip from her glass. „...I really like negotiating with Ferengi, so I won't do that. Instead, you can have four percent. For a favor."

Brunt had a feeling she would ask for an absurd and probably very painful favor. A finger, an arm, or declaring in the presence of the Grand Nagus that the Rules of Acquisition should be reformed. „And that favor would be what?" he sighed. „You stop that formal babble", she said. That was the last thing he had expected. It had been hard enough to overcome the instincts; to treat a clothed female formally and with some sort of respect. „Yes, of course. And now tell me what you really want", he replied when he had come to the conclusion that she was just joking. She shrugged and put her glass back on the table. „It's not my easy money..." Brunt thought about this reaction. Did she really mean it? Would it really get him more profit if he just stopped calling her 'Miss Tel'Koa' and drop the formalities? In any way, it wouldn't hurt to try. In fact, it would be a relief to stop this farce and not fake real respect any longer. „Alright, I'll stop it. No more 'Miss', just Ravennah. So, Ravennah..." He watched her carefully. „...what do I have to do to get five percent?"

Ravennah grinned, obviously satisfied with this demonstration. Instead of staring into her glass any longer, she looked up again. „Wasn't that hard, was it? If you keep it up, you'll really get five percent in the end. Or more." Brunt was all ears. „Or more? How much more? What do I have to...?" He broke up; mistrust got the upper hand. „It was a joke, right?" „No." Ravennah shook her head. „I don't joke about latinum." Again, Brunt was thrown off his track. For a female, she wasn't that bad with business things. He fell back to known territory - the 152nd Rule stated he shouldn't wonder what his profit could do for him, but ask what he could do for more profit - and tried again. „If you're serious, tell me what I need to do for five percent and more." „It's too soon", Ravennah replied. „You wouldn't do it. Not yet. Maybe never. Anyway, it's way too soon to even ask you to do it now." „I would do it!" Brunt quickly said. Whatever this mysterious 'it' would be, there was also the 13th Rule of Acquisition. Everything worth doing is worth doing it for money. And as long as he wouldn't have to say farewell to body parts, and the amputation wouldn't have to do with daggers and a lonely hallway... Although, for five percent of this profit, even that would be worth a second thought.

Ravennah shrugged. „If you insist..." she sighed. „How could I say no to such pretty lobes..." Brunt wasn't sure if she only stroked his ego to make him do something stupid, but if it was the case, she'd most likely succeed. „Now tell me! What is it?" She smiled a pitiful smile. „Give me ten bars of latinum. You'll get them back tomorrow."

„What?"

Brunt just stared at her in disbelief. „You don't believe that. If I give..." He broke up and tried to catch breath. Any success he had with this was not notable. „Ten bars! You are insane! I wouldn't give a single bar to my own mother!" Ravennah didn't pay attention to the raging Ferengi next to her and just took her glass from the table. „Nice try, really, but I'm not that stupid!" Brunt continued; the pirate didn't even listen. She emptied her glass and got up to go to the replicator. „Snail juice, or maybe some tranquilizers?" she asked. „Ten bars? Not one bar! Not a strip, not even a tiny slip of my latinum!" Ravennah shrugged, ordered Irish whiskey and snail juice, then returned to the sofa. „Not today, not tomorrow! Never!" Brunt assured her and gasped for air. „I told you that you wouldn't do it", Ravennah stated. „Yes, and you're totally right! Only over my dead bo..." Brunt stopped, he didn't want to give her any ideas. „Yes, yes, I know." She sounded like she was talking to a stubborn child, and that she didn't even take him seriously made the Ferengi even more furious. He was just too exhausted to unleash another wave of disgust. To express his anger anyway, he grabbed the snail juice, emptied the glass and slammed it on the table. „Are you done now?" Ravennah asked, still sounding bored, when Brunt crossed his arms and leaned back. „Yes. Never! That is my last word." He turned his face away. „We'll see." „Yes, we will!" For a while, it was quiet in the room, then Brunt spotted the padd with the inventory list that he had thrown onto the table in rage earlier.

„Five percent of this profit... would be at least 120 bars..." he slowly mumbled. „135 bars, after your price corrections", Ravennah nodded. Suspiciously, Brunt watched her. „And... I would get my ten bars back tomorrow?" She nodded again, but didn't say anything. „And... Do I have any guarantee for that?" Ravennah sighed. „You didn't really understand the concept of proving your trust, yes?" „Don't tell me the 87th Rule is the one you don't know?" Brunt looked back up from the inventory. „Trust is the biggest liability of all." „Yes, I know", Ravennah confirmed. „But in my line of work, it is a necessity. It's your turn now." Brunt thought for a moment. „You claim that you trust me then?" he asked skeptically. To his surprise and irritation, she nodded. „Why else would I offer you five percent?"

This gave Brunt something to think about. Logic was clearly on her side, as she had the precious artifacts. She also knew the rules, better than one could expect from an alien. Or even a female. And then, it wasn't really a female; it was fear in person, a perfectly legal business partner that didn't violate or bend any rule. Of course, if she had been just a female, she would have tried to trick or blackmail him into agreeing to three percent. But she offered five if he would cooperate because she recognized his value as a businessman. And there was one strong point for her to consider. Rule of Acquisition 279 - Don't make any deals after a female stroked your lobes. She hadn't been even close to his lobes all day. Not when they were in the Bolian restaurant, not during the negotiations here in his quarters. If there was any female in the entire universe that could be trusted, it had to be the one not using the biggest weakness of the Ferengi against them.

He felt like he was moving in slow motion when Brunt got up and walked over to his bed. He glanced over his shoulder, as senseless as it was to make sure Ravennah wasn't looking when he pulled out his safe. When he put it on the bed and began unlocking the several complicated security mechanisms, he remembered that he had lost almost all his latinum on the Tongo table. The 270th Rule - it is better to have gambled and lost than not have gambled at all - was not much of a consolation. He wouldn't get his five percent, and he had been so damn close. Deep inside, he fell into an abyss. All the overcoming, the excuses, the justifications... All for nothing.

In his sudden apathy over the empty safe he hadn't noticed that Ravennah had left the sofa. She now stood behind Brunt, watching over his shoulder, into the empty safe. „I must admit I'm surprised", she commented what she saw. „I can... call a latinum transport", he mumbled in a last desperate attempt to get the raise. „Oh, I'm not talking about that." Cautiously, he turned around to her to stare at her in utter disbelief. An empty safe was almost as embarrassing for a Ferengi as being caught by his superior in a cheap hotel, in the company of a clothed female. And she wasn't talking about 'that'? „What _are_ you talking about then?" he asked, as he had no better idea what to say. „You did _really_ want to give me the ten bars." She shrugged. Brunt stared back into the empty void inside his safe. „I guess I did", he sighed. Ravennah quickly kissed the back of his head, but when Brunt jumped around in shock and surprise to protest such behavior, she was already on her way to the door.

„By the way, you should consider buying a bigger safe", she said casually while she deactivated the security locks. „For five... or even six percent, that one might be a bit small."


	12. Chapter 12

**Rule 75: Home is where the heart is, but the stars are made of latinum.**

**Nausicaan Raider Maoth'ai, Khagan's quarters**

Ariev, Maahir and Ravennah had to do some catching up. They were sitting in a mish mash of chairs, cushions and cargo boxes; between them on the floor lay several open bottles. „Clearly our lucky day!" Ariev said, reaching for a bulbous bottle of Saurian Brandy. „Agreed", Maahir nodded. „Two birds with one stone, piss off the Syndicate and pick up a Ferengi; couldn't have gone any better." He looked over at Ravennah, who was leaning against a cargo box, holding several bottles in her arms. „Throw me that Bajoran Spring Wine." Her eyes scanned the collection she was holding. She found the right bottle and handed it to her pilot. „We're on the right track", she said, less enthusiastic than her crewmates. „But it's not as easy as I thought." „Oh come on." Ariev shook his head. „You always knew how to handle Ferengi. You're just a bit rusty. It will come back to you as we go." He opened the brandy bottle, tried a sip, shuddered, closed the bottle and threw it onto a pile of pillows behind him. „Exactly", Maahir nodded. „An old flame never dies. Give it some time and it will all be like it used to be." He opened his bottle and drank from the wine. „Not bad!" he grinned. „Not strong either, but quite tasty." Ariev reached for the bottle to confirm this statement; he took a sip and finally raised his ridges approvingly. „You're right, not bad. And a pretty intense aroma." He passed the bottle to Ravennah. „You can mix a lot of interesting ingredients into it and no-one would suspect a thing!" Maahir added. „The old flame thing is exactly my problem", Ravennah said, watching the bottle thoughtfully. „Brunt isn't Rook. I don't think he deals with our lifestyle quite like Rook did. After all, he's an FCA liquidator, not an arms dealer."

Ariev searched through a box with bottles and finally decided to try a dark green one, made of dull glass, with a bright yellow label. „Maybe it will take a bit for him to get used to our rules, but they aren't that different from the Rules of Acquisition", he said while fighting a small battle against the bottle top. „But hey, he would have given you the latinum. Not even Rook would have done that so soon." Now Ravennah grinned. „Right. But Rook was the only one to ever give me his latinum", she corrected. „Then take it as a good sign", Maahir said and took the stubborn bottle off Ariev to try his luck. „FCA liquidators and arms dealers still have a major thing in common. They don't have many friends, but a lot of enemies - and latinum." Finally, the bottle gave up its resistance and Maahir sniffed the content curiously. A moment later, his antennae curled downwards and he gave the bottle back to Ariev without trying the drink. Ravennah still stared down at the Spring Wine, looking frustrated. „I never said it's impossible to make this work. But it's not going to be as easy as it was with Rook." She emptied the bottle and added: „It's simply not going to be like it used to be."

**Next door, Khan's quarters**

After a long and intense scan of the room, Brunt's eyes had finally found something to focus on without being confronted with slow, painful ways to die. Khan Maahir Sha'in, so the full name and rank of the room's owner, seemed to be a big fan of barbaric torture disguised as art. None of the paintings was of notable value and the statues wouldn't have gotten more than a bid or two at an auction, but visually the garbage made quite an impression. Therefore, Brunt stared at a pile of books, unable to decipher the titles. He was relatively certain that these were the collected documentations of absurd torture methods of the quadrant, but he didn't ask and just tried to think it were only cookbooks or something equally harmless.

„The replicator mostly works", Dh'amon explained. He leaned against a wall by the window, watching the space outside. „Just don't order anything Orion." Brunt swallowed and against his feeling of foreboding, he asked. „Why? What happens if..." „The replicator will add a randomly selected neurotoxin", Dh'amon replied casually. „Maahir has no love for the Syndicate." He sighed. „Yeah, I know, understandable after what happened with his so-called father. I'm sure he told you. He tells everyone... It's a bit annoying, especially if you have to come up with excuses every single time an Orion business partner doesn't come back to Orion..." „You... do business... with the Syndicate?" Brunt gasped. „I thought you worked for the Breen!" „Loyalty can be bought - and sold", Dh'amon quoted the 227th Rule of Acquisition. „We do business with the Orions, yes. They always pay on time and they handle things with the necessary discretion." He slowly walked over to the table in the corner, still looking into space. „It doesn't make us friends though. For them, we are business partners. We can do the difficult jobs. But after the business is done, we are just outcasts who don't belong here again." Brunt regarded him for a moment. „But why would it matter where you 'belong' if you get the jobs done? Who really cares?" „The Orions do", Dh'amon replied. „And it matters to the Breen, too." Now he turned around to face Brunt. „Yet that is still what makes the big difference. The Breen appreciate what the Orions despise. And that always makes them the highest bidder whenever our loyalty is for sale. No-one can outbid the Breen." Brunt shook his head. „I bet the Grand Nagus could. He can outbid everyone." As much as he valued the Breen as business partners of Ferenginar, it was a bit too much praise to not scratch at his pride.

Dh'amon quietly laughed, but it didn't sound like he was laughing about Brunt. „You have no idea how many insane dictators claimed they could outbid the Breen in the past." He watched a box at his feet, reached into it and found a dusty wine bottle. He blew off the dust, and then opened it with his teeth. „The Grand Nagus is no 'insane dictator", Brunt protested. „That is true", Dh'amon nodded. He put the bottle on the table and began to search for glasses. When he had found two in the box, he waved Brunt over and began to pour them drinks.

The Ferengi got up from the surprisingly clean bed that stood out like the last bastion of order in the middle of the room's chaos, and joined Dh'amon at the table. „In a year or so, Breen will open the borders officially for the unwanted sons and daughters of the quadrant", the pirate continued. He handed Brunt a glass of wine. „And that's the little detail giving the Confederacy the advantage. Breen does welcome the daughters. Ferenginar can't keep up with only welcoming the sons." „Hm", Brunt replied thoughtfully and tried the wine. It tasted better than he had expected. „Yeah", Dh'amon seemed to read his undecided thoughts. „Just look at yourself. Ravennah has shown her profitable intentions, yet you still bring up the 149th Rule." He seemed surprised by the quality of the wine himself, as he reached for the bottle to study the label. „I didn't make the rules", Brunt defended his position. „Grand Nagus Gint made them, and I'm sure he had his good reasons." „And I am sure he didn't consider all of the consequences." Dh'amon put the bottle aside and reached for his glass instead. „Take the 263rd Rule, for example." „Never let a clothed female cloud your sense for profit", Brunt quoted. The pirate nodded, as if Brunt had finally realized his mistake. „And what made you hesitate when Ravennah offered you to work with us?" he asked, more rhetorically. „That she's a 'clothed female', right?" he answered his own question. „You know there's a lot of profit to be made. An opportunity you almost missed."

Brunt's brain frantically tried to find an excuse to counter this reverse logic, but remained unsuccessful. There was only Rule 268, sub item d - in doubt, shoot them, take their money and blame someone else. To shoot Dh'amon and take his money was not a realistic option to solve the situation, but blaming someone else certainly was. „Gint probably was never in a situation like this. So he had no reason to make a rule for it." Dh'amon raised an eyebrow. „But you are not Gint. And you are in this situation. Yet you still defend a rule that is very obviously useless." He grinned. „I admit, some of your rules are really useful, but others are simply nonsense." „Oh?" Brunt's eyes narrowed. „And which would be simply nonsense?"

„How cute", Brunt heard Ravennah's voice from the door. Dh'amon was still grinning when the Ferengi turned around. Ravennah leaned in the open door, looking amused. „I hope you won't be too disappointed, but he actually knows all 285 Rules", she continued. „Everyone on this vessel does; information is valuable around here. And therefore, it is time we introduce our set of rules to you."


End file.
